title | Forms of Imprisonment
author |
experienced/
lostfragmentfandom | Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann.
characters | Nia and Anti-Spiral Nia, various other characters. Heavily implied Simon/Nia.
rating | PG.
summary | Zero is one hundred, but it certainly doesn't feel that way.
author's notes | ... I quite honestly have nothing, even though I ended up enjoying this a lot more then I thought I would. The title is from a Universal Hall Pass song?
In the headquarters, everyone is rushing. "Don't you know there's a war on?" they say in sing-song voices, or as well as the Anti-Spirals can. An almost violent glee is in the air. "This is for their own good~"
She knows there's a war on - in fact, she knows there's plenty of wars. There's the external war, where everyone raises cleaver and Ganmen and Mugann against a common enemy. And then there's the internal war, the eternal war. Call it what you will. Everyone has one, and hers is one of the worst.
Her legs (if they can even be called that anymore) carry her into the dim, circular room. Total silence rings out.
"Status report, model 0000-892-579." This is not anything like a meeting of the councils she knows, the councils back home of the Spirals. There are no smiles, no casual chuckles, no light teasing. Everyone here is so serious it causes an ache in her.
The real her is disgusted with them, these robotically reacting -- people (she uses that word grudgingly). But disgust is not in her programming, and the other, the one who is her but not begins to relate the previous seven years with all the emotional detachment of one of them.
Simon's fight with Genome. Simon building Kamina City. Simon's promotion to commander-in-chief. Everything is Simon, which makes sense. This, after all, is his story, his play, and she has her role to act. She knows what she must do, but she will fumble; she will change the script. He has taught her that nothing is impossible. Zero is one hundred.
Zero is one hundred, and if there are one hundred barriers holding the real her back, there are zero barriers. She manages to choke out, "I miss him," before the Anti-Spiral programming kicks back in, at the very last minute, transforming it into "I is in."
Several council members blink, but from most (the older ones) there is no reaction at all.
"I miss him." She says more clearly, louder, and it comes out whole, so she will rage on. Zero is one hundred, and if she says one word then she is saying ten thousand. "I miss him, Simon. I really do. You don't believe I can feel, but I can. I can remember, too. I have zero one hundred memories and I do remember him. I will likely be shut down after this, if we win and they lose, but I don't care. As long as I could see him again. I lov--"
Her programming decides it would be a good time to step in now, the ones and the zeros flashing before her eyes. She wants it, to be able to rage on with reckless abandon, like Simon does, like his aniki before him did. Just another moment. Just another minute of showing this corrupted audience the person behind the actor.
"I apologize, but I cannot continue to report on subject SI8891-2120." She says blankly. "Further data is corrupted and unable to be seen from an unbiased point of view."
"Dismissed, then." They tell her unfeelingly. And her legs turn where she doesn't want to turn.
Inside, she's still asking for one more moment where she is herself, one more minute of lucidity. One more moment of that feeling she gets when she's around him - around him, she is herself, not a robot, not an actor. Herself.
But it is not given to her.
The war rages on.